


He Comes in My Favorite Colors

by HumanityIsRuined



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Other, TW: Self Harm, inspired by housewife radio, takes place in 1900's, triggering, tw: blindness, tw:death, tw:synesthesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:44:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6938347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HumanityIsRuined/pseuds/HumanityIsRuined
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*I like to open my eyes and see him in his colors.</p>
<p>*He's radiant.</p>
<p>*I want that radiance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seeing Patterns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FitofPaige](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FitofPaige/gifts).



> so,  
> I really liked Ghostie's song, Housewife Radio. It pretty much inspired me to write a story about the song a bit. Gah, I'm just hoping I'm not infringing copyright. Anyway, enjoy the story!

I love the way he shines. His scent reminds me of purple. The way he lights up the house sends me into a trance. The way his soul glimmers with determination... It's as vibrant as my mother cleans the dishes and my father works his Part-Time gigs for money.

Frisk... The name. It shines with green and red. He loves my ability to see these things.

But does he love me?

I don't know.

 

He walked through the door to my home, grasping me into a tight hug. It had been a while since we'd see each other.  
"Hey!" He spoke excitedly. "How are you Chara?"  
"I'm fine. Is everything spiffy with you, pretty?" I questioned.  
"Yup! All alright!" He exclaimed.  
I was glad.  
My colorful friend was fine.  
"Frisk, would you mind coming with me to the drug store? My father needed some cigars."  
"Of course I wouldn't mind! Let's go!"  
We bolted out the door, not minding our manners like the responsible children we should be.


	2. Thirty Cents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i need to update this more often
> 
>  
> 
> aaaggghhh

"What're you ankle-biters doin' hea'?" The counterwoman asked. "Are you two crusin' for a brusin'?"  
"No, mam'. We're just here to buy some cigars for this swell keeper right next to me!" Frisk exclaimed.  
"They're on Isle Five. Get goin' ya germs!" The woman joked.  
"Thanks!" Frisk and I shouted as we ran toward the isle.  
We stumbled upon a few hard decisions, and we only had thirty entire pennies. We either had the choice to leave or buy daddy's least favorite brand of cigarettes.  
We got him the cigarettes.  
Those dull, grey cigarettes.

We stepped out of the store and into the street. "Frisky, do see these hoods?" I asked.  
"Mhm. They're sort of annoying." He responded.  
"Just wait until the heat get 'em. I wonder what'll be laid on their parents." I giggled.  
"Stop talking." He snickered. We both playfully slapped each other until we finally ended up at my doorstep. I unlocked the door. However, he took my hand, held the door open, and gestured me inside.  
"Why thank you, darling!" I jokingly swooned, leaning closer into his vibrant, colorful face.  
"My pleasure, kitten."  
We stood there for a while, gazing into each other's eyes. It was like a moment on cloud 9.

His rude, germ of a mother then interrupted the moment.  
"Hi baby!" She exclaimed to Frisk.  
We snapped out of the trance, both facing her.  
"Hi there." He said. His voice was blue, and so was his radiance.  
"Time to go!" She said sweetly yet extremely harshly. Her smile was murderous; a deep, dark red was what illuminated from her.  
"Bye, Cherry." He sighed.  
"I'll see you!" I replied.  
He slowly made his way down the steps, taking one last glance at me, and then being pushed away by his mother.

I shut the door behind me, sighing a deep, purple wave of sadness.  
I'd have to ponder when he'd return.  
Once more, filled with the empty void of black.


End file.
